


Shot At the Night

by phoenixjean



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Apocalypse
Genre: Bodyguard AU, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, I might put smut in idk it depends on the Critical Response, Romance, erik isn't actually in it he's just mentioned a bunch, guess what this is another vaguely eh approach to direct canon, there's bed sharing because i am weak, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:17:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9339404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixjean/pseuds/phoenixjean
Summary: “Well if that doesn’t cut it for you, then tell them we’re dating,” He snaps back, tone mocking and very clearly not serious, but you pause and cock your head to the side, sizing him up thoughtfully. Something in your eyes makes him tense up, shaking his head warily. “No. No, no, no, think of something else. Please.”“But I like your idea.”





	1. Chapter 1

“ _Did you get the message from Moira about_ -” Your mum’s voice sounds uneven and a little distorted through the speaker as you sandwich it between your shoulder and your ear while rifling quickly through your bag and half walking half jogging to the train station down the street

“Yes mum, I heard about the ‘threatening messages’ or whatever it was Moira called them in the email. And yes, I’m being careful mum, I’m not an idiot.” You speed up as you hurry towards the station, and you sling your bag back over your shoulder and transfer your phone to your hand.

“ _I just worry, sweetheart. No one at work predicted this kind of intensely personal backlash on us from the trial, which, by the way, I think is going to be running a lot longer than we originally thought_.” Your mum sounds distracted and more than a little cryptic, as if there’s something important that she wants to bring up with you, but you’re about to miss your train and you don’t have the time right now to worry about your mother’s law firm or whatever it is she has on her mind. “ _Have you found a new roommate yet?_ ”

“No, not yet. I’ve got a few more people interested so I’m gonna get in touch and line up interviews or whatever later today. I’ve gotta go, I’m running late,” You start to excuse yourself, but your mum interrupts you.

“ _You don’t need to worry too much about that, I’ve found someone who should work for it, and-_ ”

“Mum,” you cut her off impatiently. “I’m about to miss my train. I’ll call you later, okay? Love you, bye.” You hang up and shove your phone in your pocket as you dash down the steps and onto the platform just as the train is pulling up to the station, barely managing to board before it pulls away again, because you have many positive qualities, but punctuality has never been one of them.

Your ride home is spent considering your roommate situation. Angel, your last roommate had been wonderful, but she had moved out a few months ago leaving you alone in an apartment you couldn’t afford by yourself. And then your mum had picked up the defence on the staggeringly enormous Lehnsherr case, and your roommate situation had gotten a whole lot more complicated, because it turns out that defending someone whom most of the country hated with a vengeance wasn’t exactly good for your mum’s popularity, though this in its self wasn’t exactly a surprise. What had been a surprise, however, was the inaptly termed ‘threatening messages’ that had started pouring in, and as a result, you had to be more discriminative in your roommate selection than you could really afford to be. But if your mum had found someone, then maybe you could stop working yourself to the bone in order to pay for your aggressively mediocre apartment.

When you get home, you drop your bags beside the door and scoop up your laptop, flicking it open and scrolling absent mindedly through the emails you have about people interested in seeing your apartment, trying to decide if there’s anyone you actually want to interview as a back-up option in case whatever your mum had in mind doesn’t pan out. You’re just about to send off emails to a couple of them when there’s a knock at your door, so you save the draft and walk over to answer it.

“Hi, how can I-holy shit, _Alex_?” You blurt incredulously on seeing the figure on the other side of the door. You haven’t seen Alex since you were both kids, and he is quite possibly the last person you would have expected to see standing outside your apartment. “What’re you doing here? How are you? I’m so-this is-god, sorry, I’m being rude. Come in, please.” The words all come out in a rush as you stand aside to let him through the door, resolutely shoving down the nagging regret that your apartment wasn’t currently tidier. “I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you? What brings you my way?” The question brings a slightly surprised look to his face, though you don’t pay much attention to it as you close the door and direct him to your couch.

“Good-erm. I’m doing well. Life’s been kind of-hectic, I guess. Your mom actually pointed me your way. I just moved to the area, and I guess she found my information on a security website or something? I’m not sure, but anyway she got in touch, and when she heard I hadn’t locked down somewhere to live, she said that this situation would work perfectly.” He explains, sitting down and looking around somewhat uncomfortably as you go to one of your cabinets and pull a couple of glasses out.

“Why was mum looking on a security website? Feels like a weird place to look for potential roommates for me,” you remark curiously and you glance over in time to see Alex freezes up, eyes wide and startled. “What?” You demand, turning to face him, immediately suspicious. He cringes slightly, tensing slightly as he decides what to tell you first.

“She didn’t-didn’t tell you about that? Right. Okay.” He pauses and you glare at him.

“Didn’t tell me what, Alex?” you grate out, voice slow and dangerously calm.

“I’m your security. She was worried about the backlash from the trial and because you’re living away from home, she wanted to get you personal security, and she found me. Probably figured you’d be more, I dunno, receptive to the idea if you actually knew the person.” You’re staring incredulously at him, gaping slightly and he winces apologetically. “I’m still gonna be paying rent and shit like that, but I’m also going to be responsible for your safety for as long as your mum thinks I’ll be needed,” Alex trails off apologetically as you put the cups down on the counter and stalk over to where he’s sitting.

“Okay, Alex.” You get out through gritted teeth. “Let me just get this straight. Mum was worried about what her sudden ‘rise to fame’ would entail, so she decided that a good way to deal with any fallout for me was to pay you _actual money_ to be some kind of bullshit bodyguard?”

“That’s-” Alex rubs awkwardly at the back of his head “That’s about right, yeah.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill her. Why does she think I need protecting at all? She’s the one who’s in court every day, it’s not like I’m putting my face on camera. And why’d she hire you?” You fume, pacing around the room and Alex clears his throat uncomfortably.

“I’m not a bad choice-I did the requisite courses and I mean, I’m kind of, uh-what’s the best way to put this-uniquely qualified for this sort of thing,” He says reluctantly and you stop pacing, whirling around to stare incredulously at him.

“What the fuck does that mean, ‘uniquely qualified’?”

“It’s-well, um-I mean-It’s kind of complicated. But I’ve actually done a lot of protection training and whatever, so security was a pretty good way to pick up some cash,” He explains carefully, and you raise your eyebrows in surprise, but decide to ignore it for the time being in favour of other questions.

“Why didn’t you let me know you were gonna be in the area, though?”

“We haven’t exactly been in touch since you moved, (Y/N)” He reminds you, and you roll your eyes at him before returning to your irate pacing.

“Whatever. Just let me be wrathful, okay? This is ridiculous. I don’t need protecting, so can you just, tell mum I declined, or something?” You snap, and Alex winces apologetically.

“Yeah, I can’t do that. I believe your mum’s exact words were ‘she’s going to throw a tantrum, but I’m the one paying you, so just ignore her,’” He says, the beginnings of a smile twitching at the corners of his lips, and you scowl in frustration.

“I hate her. And you’re gonna be my new roommate? Is there schedule or whatever on this, or is this a ‘foreseeable future’ type of deal?”

“Foreseeable future, I’m pretty sure. And if the roommate deal is working well for us, then I might stay on even after I’m not needed as security, as long as you’re cool with that?” Alex replies, drumming his fingers restlessly against the arm of the couch, and you wave a hand dismissively in his direction.

“Yeah, that’s whatever. As long as you pay your rent on time and I don’t actively dislike you then you’ve got a room here as long as you want it. That’s not the biggest problem here,” you inform him, finally stopping your pacing to lean against the kitchen counter.

“What’s the biggest problem?” Alex asks, patiently. “And if you say it’s having security at all, then I’m really sorry, but that’s something you have to take up with your mom, not me.” He reiterates defensively, and you rub absentmindedly at your temples as you think.

“Believe me, I’m gonna be talking to her about this later today. No the biggest problem is explaining why you’re always around me. I’m _so_ not telling my friends Mum got me security,” You complain and Alex shoots you a quizzical look.

“Just tell them I’m your new roommate,” He reminds you matter of factly, and you fix him with a reproving glance.

“Being roommates,” you start, voice heavy with condescension and feigned patience. “Is not going to explain why you follow me everywhere, especially if we weren’t already friends. So what do I tell them to explain it.” Alex just shrugs infuriatingly.

“That’s not my problem.”

“You-” You jab an accusatory finger at him. “Are not being at all helpful. You’re the cause of the problem in the first place, so try and come up with some kind of excuse for your presence.” You retort, and he just shrugs again.

“Tell them we’re cousins and I moved to town,” He suggests, and you roll your eyes for what feels like the umpteenth time this afternoon.

“I wouldn’t drag a family member literally everywhere I went. It’s weird.” You rebuff his idea, and Alex gestures in mild frustration.

“Well, what do you have in mind?” he retorts and you glare in mock offense.

“Not that half assed explanation, that’s for damn sure.”

“Well if that doesn’t cut it for you, then tell them we’re dating,” He snaps back, tone mocking and very clearly not serious, but you pause and cock your head to the side, sizing him up thoughtfully. Something in your eyes makes him tense up, shaking his head warily. “No. No, no, no, think of something else. Please.”

“But I like your idea.” You say teasingly, still scrutinizing him. You certainly wouldn’t be opposed to pretending to dating Alex. You hadn’t seen him since he was thirteen and you were eleven, but twelve years had done a lot of good things for him, and now he was tall and broad shouldered with staggeringly blue eyes, and you’d be lying if you said his smile didn’t make your throat tighten a little. “C’mon. You’re being paid to keep an eye on me no matter what I say, and this’ll be more interesting than just hovering at my shoulder all the time.” You grin conspiratorially at him, raising an eyebrow at him in a silent challenge.

“What does that even _mean_ , though?” He asks, somewhat helplessly, and you shrug dismissively.

“It’ll be easy. Just put your arm around me when we’re with my friends and call me ‘babe’ or whatever sometimes. You’ve dated people before. You know what it entails. Just pretend we’re doing that.” Alex still doesn’t look convinced.

“That sounds like a terrible plan that is probably going to go very, _very_ wrong, and we’re both going to look and feel like complete fuckwits,” he warns, and you scoff.

“Please. We’re both adults. It’s gonna be fine. Just say you agree.”

“Okay, fine.” He groans, after a long silence, and you chuckle.

“Thought so. This is gonna be fun.”


	2. Chapter 2

After your initial conversation with Alex, you handed him the spare key and told him he could start moving his things in as soon as he wanted to before he left for the night. As soon as he departed, you took the opportunity to call your mother and berate her for her failure to consult you about the whole ‘bodyguard issue’.

“Next time you decide to hire someone to live with me and follow me around, could you maybe give me some kind of heads up before-hand, that is if you’re not going to ask whether I want it to happen in the first place.” You don’t give her a chance to say anything after picking up, instead jumping straight in. You hear a rush of static through the phone as she sighs.

“ _I take it Alex showed up when you got home? I had told him I would let you know what was happening before he arrived_.” Your mum sounds apologetic, and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, neither of us was particularly thrilled that the topic hadn’t been previously broached to me, so I figured I should maybe give you feedback on how you approached that particular issue,” you retort sarcastically.

“ _Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I was going to talk to you about it, but you were in a rush and hung up before I could mention it. It’s just a precaution. I worry about you, living on your own_ ,” she explains sheepishly and you sigh in resignation, because she’s just looking out for you, even if you aren’t exactly pleased with how she’s gone about it.

“I know. But you didn’t even ask if I thought I needed any kind of security; which I don’t, by the way. I’m all cool for Alex to move in with me, and it’s great to see him again, but I would have preferred it if you had thought to discuss the possibility with me before actually going ahead and hiring someone.”

“ _I’m sorry that I didn’t think to bring it up earlier, and that it was sprung on you like this, but it shouldn’t have any impact on your actual life, beyond having Alex accompanying you places,_ ” she says, tone placating and gratifyingly sheepish.

“What about my love life? How am I supposed to explain why I have a bodyguard following me around when I go on dates?” You ask, a mischievous grin spreading across your face, because even if you’ve forgiven your mum for her lack of communication on the ‘bodyguard issue’, it’s still fun to tease her.

“ _Your-dates-I didn’t-that’s-I’m sorry honey, but as far as I was aware, you don’t really-date? You’ve never mentioned seeing anyone or going-I-_ ” You have to bite back a laugh, because you can practically see the flustered expression on your mum’s face as she scrambles for an appropriate reply.

“Relax, mum. You’re right, I don’t really go on dates, or whatever. But still. I’m disappointed you didn’t consider the tragic limitations this arrangement has placed on my love life. What if I want to start dating? What if I want to date Alex?” You chuckle, and you hear a deep sigh come through the speaker.

“ _Don’t make fun of me, I’m doing my best. If you want to date Alex, then-well-I don’t know, just be careful, but that’s your problem. I’ve got to go, Moira dropped off some new documents for the case that I need to go over with her, but I’ll ring you again sometime this week to check in, okay? I love you._ ” There’s a momentary pause and the sounds of papers being shuffled in the background.

“Okay, sounds good. Bye, mum. I love you too.”

* * *

 Alex moves his things in to your apartment the next day, and as you’re flopping back against the couch cushions after helping him unload boxes, you glance over at him curiously.

“So, what’ve you actually been up to over the past twelve years? I assume mum gave you the sparknotes version of my life so far, but what’ve _you_ been doing?” You ask, and he actually tenses up a little at the question, making you arch an eyebrow inquisitively. “Any sketchy secrets I should know about?” There’s a half second pause and then he grins, letting out a short laugh.

“Honestly, I haven’t been doing all that much. Nothing big and sketchy that you should worry about. I moved schools not long after you moved, and it was a pretty cool place. Big focus on-uh-practical application of very specific skills, I guess would be the way to put it,” He sounds a little hesitant, almost like he’s trying to avoid mentioning something, but you don’t push it. “There was a short while with military stuff, but I got out of that pretty damn quick. Freelancing for security work seemed like a good fit for me after that though, so here I am.” He shrugs, as if dismissing the information he just gave out as unimportant. You just nod, impressed.

“You’ve clearly been up to more than I have, then. High school, college, work-my life’s been pretty standard. You’ll have to tell me more about your school, though. It sounds fascinating,” you remark as you rise from the couch and head over to the kitchen, scanning the countertop for the grocery list you had made earlier that week. Alex coughs slightly as if startled.

“It wasn’t really-I don’t know there’s not much to tell,” he hedges cautiously, and you shrug, grabbing the list and glancing over at him.

“As your girlfriend, I should know what you’ve been up to,” you remind him teasingly and he lets out a slightly uncomfortable laugh.

“Oh, right. That.”

“Whatever. Another time,” you say assertively, waving the scrap of paper in your hand in his direction. “I’m about to run out of food, so we’re gonna be hitting up the grocery store round the corner in a minute. Is there anything in particular that you like, dislike, are allergic to, eat constantly? I’ve got the basics covered, so what do you like to eat?” You ask, grabbing a pen from your bag and looking over at him expectantly.

“I’m not fussy, whatever you like is all good by me.” He gestures dismissively and you grin at him.

“You haven’t changed a bit. I remember when you were like nine, I dared you to eat some dirt and you told me it ‘wasn’t that gross’,” you chuckle and Alex scowls in mock offense.

“Leave me and my iron clad stomach alone. You were the one who told me to eat it in the first place, so that one is just as much your fault as mine,” he replies defensively, and you roll your eyes playfully as you shove the list in your pocket and scoop your bag up from off the table.

“Whatever you say. I’m driving, by the way. I assume you have to come with me, but just FYI, shotgun so does _not_ pick the music in my car.” 

* * *

 You hadn’t been exaggerating when you had said that you were about to run out of food. The grocery cart is stacked high with the items on your list and you only have a few more things to add before checking out. Alex rounds the corner from the adjacent aisle to deposit a couple loaves of bread in the cart and chuckles lightly when he sees what you’ve just pulled off the shelf.

“Are you sure we need three boxes of pop tarts? That feels kind of excessive,” He points out in amusement, and you shoot him a look of mock reproach.

“Yes. Yes all three boxes are entirely necessary, thank you very much. And I’d greatly appreciate it if you didn’t doubt my shopping methods, Summers,” you retort and he just laughs, holding his hands up in defence.

“Okay, okay, got it. The pop tarts stay,” he concedes and you nod in satisfaction.

“Damn right they do. Anyway, I think that’s everything we came for, so let’s-”

“(Y/N)?” A voice from the behind you stops you before you can head towards the checkout, and you turn around to see a familiar blonde girl walking towards you from the other end of the aisle.

“Oh my god, Emma?” You ask, a little startled. “Hey! I had no idea you were in the area, what’re you doing here?”

“My boss has some work here and brought me to help iron out some details. How are you?” She explains, hugging you briefly.

“I’m doing really well. Not too much going on at the moment. How are you? I haven’t seen you in ages, what’ve you been up to? We definitely need to catch up if you’re going to be around for a while.” You say, and she smiles in agreement.

“Yeah, absolutely. I’m not doing too badly either. You look great, by the way. Oh-who’s this?” She asks, looking over your shoulder to Alex, who’s come up behind you.

“Who-oh, yeah-that’s Alex, my-boyfriend,” you say semi awkwardly, shooting an arm out as surreptitiously as possible to grab his wrist and tug him in a little closer, linking your fingers together. “Babe, this is Emma. She’s an old school friend of mine.” Alex looks a little baffled as to what exactly is going on, but he smiles politely at Emma and puts out his free hand for her to shake.

“Right, yeah-boyfriend. Nice to meet you,” he adds, slightly belatedly as Emma takes his hand.

“Good to meet you too. How long have you two been together?” She asks, looking between the two of you with a curious smile.

“A little while, now,” you blurt, at exactly the same time as Alex says ‘not that long’. Emma nods, looking a little incredulous and more than a little amused, but she doesn’t say anything else about it.

“Well, it was great to run into you, (Y/N), but I’ve gotta dash. I’m not in the area for a whole lot longer, but you should definitely drop me a line and see if we can grab coffee or something sometime. Bye!” And with that, she flashes both of you a slightly curious smile and walks away.

“That went-that was…suboptimal,” you say decisively after a vaguely uncomfortable silence.

“It definitely could’ve gone better,” Alex agrees. Sighing heavily, you grab hold of the grocery cart and start to push it towards the check out.

“Oh well. She’s not around that often, it’ll be fine. C’mon, let’s head home.”

The rest of the afternoon passes uneventfully. The two of you go back to your apartment and unload the groceries, making idle conversation. You set Alex up with your Netflix and retreat to your bedroom to try and do some work. After a few hours of aggressively mediocre productivity, you sigh and push your laptop away from you. The brief interaction with Emma has been hovering at the back of your mind since you left the store, and you know that if that’s how you and Alex behave towards each other around your other friends, there’s no way the two of you will ever be a convincing couple. Still thinking over the problem, you head out of your room and to the kitchen. Alex is watching some nature documentary, but he looks up as you walk past him towards the fridge. After sticking a frozen pizza in the oven, you walk over to the couch, sitting down beside Alex and leaning into his side, curling your legs up beside you. He tenses up at the unexpected contact, looking over at you in confusion.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, carefully, and you glance up at him, still tucking yourself into his side.

“We’re supposed to be dating,’ you remind him, not moving. He just raises an eyebrow, clearly not getting your point.

“Only according to other people. There’s no one around right now,” he replies patiently, as if explaining something very easy. You just roll your eyes in response.

“Yeah, but remember how Emma reacted? We’re not a convincing couple in the slightest. We need to practice. So put your arm around my shoulders and help me work out a backstory for us,” You retort. Alex doesn’t say anything, but before you have a chance to ask him again, he shifts slightly on the couch, slinging his arm around you and pulling you close against him. “That’s better. Now, how long have we been dating?”

“Probably not that long. I mean, you can lie about ‘wanting to keep it private’ or whatever but you can’t feasibly have been dating me for all that long if your friends haven’t met me yet,” he suggests, and you hum in agreement, nodding thoughtfully.

“That makes sense. I reckon we started, like, three weeks-ish ago. It probably started because you moved back to town and we ran into each other and wanted to reconnect. One thing lead to another, and now we’re dating. That feels like the easiest option,” you decide, manoeuvring yourself into a more comfortable position on the couch, resting your head back against Alex’s shoulder as he adjusts his arms around you.

“Good idea. That’s closest to the truth, which’ll make it easiest to remember,” he agrees. “Okay, so we already know about childhoods and whatever, so we don’t need to worry about that. You know more or less what I’ve been up to and I know what you’ve been up to since we were kids, so that’s easy enough. Do you have any habits or whatever that I should know about? Allergies, birthdays, activities or whatever?” You think for a second before shaking your head.

“No, I’m pretty sure you’re all caught up on shit like that. What do I tell people your job is? Like, we know you’re a security worker, but the whole point of this is that I don’t tell people I have a bodyguard,” you say, frowning slightly as you think it over. You feel Alex shift behind you as he shrugs.

“Just tell them I’m still doing security work. Say it’s for a store or hotel or office or something like that. If they ask too many questions about it we can just say its privileged information.”

“Yeah, that works,” you remark offhandedly.

“Okay, so we’ve covered how we started dating and how long, and we know enough about each other to be convincing. Is there anything else we need to work on?” He asks, and there’s a brief silence as you think about how best to broach the next issue.

“Well,” you start, carefully. “Couples generally do the whole casual-physical-affection thing. We should probably practice that.” You feel like you’re holding your breath as you wait for Alex’s reaction, but all he does is sigh lightly and shift so he can look at you more directly.

“Yeah, probably,” he replies, voice casual. You adjust your position on the couch, swinging your legs over his lap so you’re facing him. It doesn’t feel weird, and you’re not sure whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but you resolutely push any hesitation or doubt aside as you loop your arms around his neck.

“We don’t need to be totally all over each other, that’s always kind of awkward for the people we’re around. But I’m a pretty touchy-feely person, so you’re gonna have to be used to that. Just putting your arm around me, hand holding, shit like that. Nothing out of the ordinary. But I’ll probably also kiss you. So, if you-” You break off, not entirely sure what to say next, but Alex just nods.

“We should probably-yeah, that makes sense.” His voice is light and incongruously casual, as if the two of you were talking about the weather, or something normal like that. “Okay, should I-how do you want to-” His tone is unconcerned but he seems at a loss for words as well, which is somehow reassuring, because it means that you’re not the only one wondering whether this is breaking any unspoken rules. You just shrug slightly in response, starting to lean in a little and he nods again as he brings one of his hands up to tentatively cradle your jaw, tilting your chin up slightly as he closes the gap between you. His lips are soft and warm, and the kiss is dry and hesitant and it feels almost experimental. You’re not dizzy or flustered or unsettled by the kiss, but you’re also not sure whether or not Alex’s eyes have always been that blue.

“That was-was that-okay? Are you good with that or do you-?” Your voice is soft, and you’re very conscious of just how close you are to Alex. He swallows imperceptibly and nods.

“Yeah, all good. A little less tense, would be better, though. Could we just-” you nod slightly, understanding what he means as you start to lean in again, moving your arm so that one of your hands is cupping the back of his neck, fingers winding slightly through his hair. The kiss feels more natural the second time, less like the result of deliberate thought and more as if it could be something you do normally. When you pull back, Alex is studying your face closely, something inscrutable in his eyes. “Better?” he asks, after a moment and you hum your assent, leaning back a little more.

“Better,” you agree, swinging your legs back around and untangling yourself from his arms just as the timer on the oven sounds, shattering the tension and announcing that dinner is ready. As you walk over to the oven, you glance back at Alex where he’s reclining back against the couch cushions again, as if nothing at all had happened. “Find something good on Netflix and I’ll bring the pizza over,” you instruct him. The two of you pass the rest of the evening watching Brooklyn 99 and eating too much pizza and you do your best not to think about how comfortable his arms felt around you or how startlingly blue his eyes are up close.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s been a month, and the existing balance between you and Alex feels comfortable. Which is good, because the Lehnsherr case has proceeded past committal hearings and into trial, and the case is looking like it’ll be a long, drawn out one so Alex is going to be living with you for a lot longer than you initially thought he would be. If you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t mind in the slightest. You like him as a roommate, and it’s nice to have company, not to mention you really don’t want to have to go back to paying the full rent on the apartment on your own. Introducing Alex to your friends ran a lot smoother than you thought it would. There were no uncomfortable questions about why they had never met him and why the two of you were already living together. They just accepted him as part of the group, and when he got up to get another drink, they all smirked at you and quipped that you were ‘highkey punching’ when you landed him.

Around the apartment, you’ve fallen into a sort of routine. You cook dinner most nights and Alex does the dishes. You watch Netflix on your couch and eat takeout on the weekends and it feels like you’re real roommates, instead of a bodyguard and client or whatever the hell the two of you are, You’re not really sure, somedays. He drops you off at work or at uni in the mornings and picks you up afterwards. You’ve tried to protest that it’s a waste of his time to have to ferry you around all the time, but he insists.

“I’m just doing my job. I’m being paid to keep you safe, and I know your office and your classes are all good, so driving you around is just doing what your mom is paying me to do,” he said obstinately. You just rolled your eyes and told him that if that was what he wanted to be doing, then you didn’t mind not having to take the train every day.

Even the casual affection between the two of you when you’re out together in public feels natural. It’s second nature for you to reach for his hand when you’re walking to the café down the street, and when you’re out to dinner with friends, Alex having his arm around your shoulders doesn’t feel out of the ordinary. It doesn’t feel weird when he picks you up at the end of the day and you kiss him hello. You know his coffee order by heart, and when you get home on Friday nights, he’s already ordered the takeout you like. The routine feels easy and comfortable, and you try not to read too much into how easily your lives have slotted around each other.

* * *

Two weeks later, you’re looking over some papers for work at home when your phone rings, and when you pick up the call, it’s someone you haven’t talked to in ages.

“Sean! How are you? What can I do for you?” You push aside the last of the paperwork as you lean back in your chair, phone to your ear. You didn’t want to review those reports anyway.

“Hey (Y/N)! I’m good. It’s been forever. I can’t chat for long now, but I’m actually going to be in your area for work in a couple of days, so I was wondering if you wanted to catch up when I’m there?” He asks, and you smile even though you know Sean can’t see you, because he was always a great friend to you and it’s been a really long time since you last saw him. He was your first friend when you moved, and the two of you stayed close all through high school and college, despite attending colleges fairly far apart. 

“That sounds great! Text me dates and times and whatever and you can come round for dinner. You can meet Alex, I think you two would get along really well,” You agree, tapping idly on the edge of your desk with your free hand.

“Who’s Alex?” Sean asks curiously and you’re not really sure why the question surprises you, but it does.

“He’s-oh, he’s my fr-boyfriend. He’s great,” you reply hurriedly. “You’ll like him.”

“Can’t wait,” Sean agrees complacently. “Look, I’ve gotta get back to work, but I’ll send the dates through. It’ll be great to see you again!”

“Yeah, absolutely. Looking forwards to it!” You say before he hangs up. You put your phone down and stare at your paperwork for another thirty seconds or so before deciding that you really, really don’t want to do more of it at the moment. Your phone buzzes and Sean has texted you the dates. He’s only in town for two days and a night, so you reply, saying you’ll have him over for dinner on the evening of his last day and then set your phone down on the desk and lean back in your chair.

“Alex,” you call from your room to the rest of the apartment. “Our usual Friday plans have changed for this week.”

* * *

It’s great to see Sean again and the introductions at the start of the dinner go far more smoothly than you could have anticipated and, as you expected, Sean and Alex get along very well. The plan for the evening had been for an early-ish dinner so that Sean could make the almost three hour drive back to his house and be there before midnight. You had tried to talk him out of this plan, but he had insisted that it was the easiest thing for him. There is, however, an unforeseen wrench in the plan. Sean is a lightweight. You’re not quite sure how you could have forgotten, especially given that the first time the two of you got drunk was passing a bottle back and forth in his old treehouse at the back of his garden, but over the course of a far lengthier dinner than initially planned, you, Alex and Sean have drunk a not insignificant amount of wine, and even though you are not entirely sober yourself, it only takes a look at Sean to know that he’s not going to be able to drive home tonight. Not that the thought occurs to you until well after he had intended to be leaving.

“Hey Sean,” you start, interrupting Alex in the middle of telling a particularly terrible joke. “Did you have any kind of contingency plan for not being able to make it home tonight?” you ask, holding up your watch. His eyes go wide and he groans, leaning back in his chair.

“Shit.” His gaze drops to his mostly empty wine glass. “I shouldn’t drive myself, should I?”

“Yeah, no. Hard pass on that,” Alex agrees, reaching for the bottle on the table and refilling his own glass. Sean sighs in resignation.

“Damn. I’ll just get an Uber or something. It’ll be fine,” he says dismissively, reaching for his phone and you roll your eyes in response.

“Dude, that Uber ride’ll cost you like a million bucks and your car will still be here.” There’s a brief pause and you make a split second decision, glancing over at Alex apologetically before continuing. “You can stay in the spare room for the night and drive back in the morning.” You’re actually impressed at how little Alex betrays his surprise in his facial expression, limiting himself to a raised eyebrow as he stands up to help you clear some of the dishes from the table as a pretence for talking about your sudden extended invitation away from Sean.

“You remember that the spare room is not, in fact, a spare room, right? It’s my room. Where I currently am sleeping. You remember that, right?” Alex’s voice is quiet but insistent and you wince sympathetically as you start to stack plates into the dishwasher.

“Yeah. I’m really sorry. I should have mentioned it to you. But honestly, what else was I supposed to do?” you explain hurriedly. “Sean can’t drive himself right now, and he doesn’t have a hotel reservation.”

“You could have offered him the couch instead,” Alex retorts and you manage to stifle an exasperated sigh.

“Offer to have him sleep on the couch when as far as he’s aware there’s an available bedroom? Or do you want to be the one to try and explain to him that we’re dating and we live together but we don’t actually sleep in the same bedroom?” You ask, feeling a small rush of satisfaction when he doesn’t reply, just looks frustrated. “Look, we’re both adults. And I’m pretty sure we’ve shared a bed before-”

“Yeah, when we were kids,” Alex interrupts and you fix him with an impatient look.

“It’s just one night. We can manage, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t consult you beforehand, but this just makes the most sense,” you say, and Alex just sighs, scrubbing a hand tiredly over his face and nodding.

“No, you’re right. It’s fine. We can handle this.”

 Getting Sean settled in what he thinks is the spare room is easy, and he promises that he’ll make sure to say goodbye before leaving in the morning, so you give him a hug and go to get ready for bed, doing your best not to think about how you’ll be spending your night. Going through the motions of your usual evening routine is easy, as you and Alex are already used to sharing space in the apartment bathroom, but as you pull on your pyjamas and slip under the covers, you can’t quite make yourself believe that nothing about this is out of the ordinary, no matter how hard you try.

You really, genuinely though you had been telling the truth when you had said that you could handle sharing a bed with Alex, but as you feel the mattress shift under his weight beside you as he slides into your bed, you’re not entirely sure if you can handle it. He mutters a quiet ‘goodnight’ as you reach over to turn out your bedside lamp, and you barely trust your voice to remain steady enough to reply. Even though he’s carefully making sure to stay to one side of the bed, not making any kind of contact with you, you can hear his steady, even breathing and feel the heat of his body through the sheets and you’re not sure whether you’ll manage to sleep at all.

 You do manage to sleep, despite your concerns, and when you wake up, the first thing you register is the weak morning sunlight filtering through the curtains and into the room. The second thing you become aware of is that Alex’s side is pressed against your back. His warmth seems to radiate through you, leaving you drowsy and unfocused and it takes you a couple of seconds to figure out exactly what’s happening. Carefully shifting your weight so you don’t wake him up, you roll over to face him, thinking the situation over. His arm had been pressed against your back, his legs brushing against yours. You’re not quite sure whether you expected to wake up wrapped in his arms or to wake on opposite sides of the bed, distinctly separate. Whatever happened this morning is middle ground, and you’re not quite sure whether you’re disappointed or relieved that it wasn’t more or less, but as Alex slowly blinks awake, his sleepy eyes and messy hair make your chest inexplicably tight and your brain still feels like it’s half asleep, so you can’t quite push aside the impulse to be closer to him. A small smile pulls at your lips as you reach out and push some hair back from his face, fingertips grazing his skin as you do so.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” you whisper, voice quiet and drowsy, and the slow, crooked smile that Alex gives you in response makes you think that maybe you don’t want him to go back to his own room after Sean leaves.


	4. Chapter 4

The lines between how you and Alex behave together in public and how you behave in private are starting to blur. The physical affection that you use around other people is starting to slip into your interactions at home, and you’re not sure how or when it started happening, but you’ve found that thinking too hard about how real your ‘relationship’ feels and what that means for the two of you is a little scary, so you just push it to the back of your mind. Besides, you like cuddling while watching Netflix, and Alex certainly hasn’t protested the few absent minded good morning kisses you’ve given him over coffee. It doesn’t feel like your routines have changed at all, yet somehow you naturally gravitate towards spending more time at home, just the two of you, rather than inviting friends round.

A few weeks after having Sean around for dinner, you’re catching up with Angel over drinks for the first time since she moved out. The evening runs smoothly, and you wonder, not for the first time, how Alex became such a regular part of your day to day life. He and Angel seem to get along reasonably well, though when you introduced them, there was a moment of hesitation, as if they had met before, though it’s so brief that you brush it off as something you imagined. The night is drawing to a close when Alex gets up to get himself another drink.

“Baby, can you get me one too while you’re up?” You ask as he rises from his seat, hand clasped loosely with his. He flashes you a quick smile.

“Yeah, no problem.” He gives your hand a brief squeeze before letting go and heading away from the booth towards the bar. You steal a couple of fries off his plate as you watch him go, only to be elbowed sharply in the side by Angel, who’s grinning at you in amusement. “What?” You protest and she laughs.

“You’re so smitten. It’s fucking hilarious. And adorable,” she teases, and you just roll your eyes, swiping another couple of fries from Alex’s plate.

“Shut up. I’m allowed to appreciate how attractive my boyfriend is,” you retort, and at the back of your mind you’re idly wondering when it became such an automatic reflex to call Alex your boyfriend.

“I’m not saying you aren’t. But I’ve never seen you this serious about a guy. It’s sweet. You weren’t really the dating type per say. I mean, we lived together for like almost three years and the longest you went out with someone was like a month at most. And you’re living with him,” Angel gestures carelessly to where Alex has disappeared into the crowd surrounding the bar and you feel your cheeks heat up in response to her comment.

“Yeah well,” you start, trying to find some kind of explanation to give or some way to direct the conversation away from your fake love life, but not managing to come up with anything. “I knew him before we started dating. Childhood friends, y’know, so this is kind of different to like, a tinder date or whatever. I’m sure you’re intimately familiar with the structure and expectations of a tinder date, aren’t you?” you quip, smirking meaningfully at her. Angel just laughs and takes another sip of her drink.

“I know what kind of fun I like to have, I’ll admit it,” she says. She’s about to keep talking when her gaze shifts to focus on something over your shoulder, eyes narrowing in confusion. “Do you know that guy over there? Because he’s like staring you down. I’m getting mad creepy vibes from him.” You glance over your shoulder, trying to see who Angel is talking about and you see a military-looking guy with short dark hair and an intense, almost angry expression on his face as he stares at you.

“Yeah no, I have no idea who he is. You’re right though, he’s definitely creepy,” you say and Angel laughs, but doesn’t look away from the stranger till a couple of seconds later, and when she does, her smile seems strangely forced.

“Whatever. I could do with another drink,” she comments, glancing at her empty glass with a look of mild dismay.

“Shame you didn’t notice earlier. Alex would’ve gotten you one,” you say.

“I’m a big girl. I can get my own drinks, thank you very much,” she retorts and you chuckle tensely, still thinking about the stranger with the unnervingly intense stare over in the corner of the bar.

“Could you maybe wait till Alex gets back? It shouldn’t be long or anything, I just-y’know what with the guy over there, and-” you start and Angel nods sympathetically, reaching to snag a couple fries off of Alex’s plate.

“Yeah, of course. No worries. Though honestly, it’s getting kind of late, so I should probably head out soon instead of getting another drink,” she replies and you grin, a little more at ease.

“Damn, your bed time has changed since we lived together. Not hitting the town tonight?”

“Definitely not. I got work tomorrow. I don’t want to be nursing a hangover,” she says, grimacing. You’re about to say more when Alex gets back and she rises from her seat. “Be back in a minute, and then I reckon I’ll go.” You nod your assent as she walks away, though most of your attention is focused on Alex. His relaxed and easy going demeanour from earlier in the night now gone, replaced with a grave intensity you haven’t seen on him before. He scans the room with a careful eye, his gaze freezing on the man in the corner before he turns to you.

“You have to go,” he says seriously, and you frown slightly in confusion.

“Alex, I don’t-what’s going on?” you ask, his behaviour making you a little nervous.

“You have to go,” he repeats. “There’s something here I need to take care of. I’ll get Angel to walk you to your car, and I’ll uber home or something, but you can’t be here, okay?”

“Why not? What’s happening?” You ask again, decidedly scared now. Alex rubs at the back of his neck as he considers the question, seeming to be deliberating what exactly to tell you.

“I’m doing my job. It isn’t safe for you to be here and I need to take care of something here to ensure your safety, otherwise I would leave with you. I’ll meet you back at home,” he says, his voice flat and even and you’ve never seen him this tense, so you reach for his hand in an attempt to calm him down or something, but the second your skin touches his, you yank your hand back with a low hiss.

“Christ Alex, your temperature is through the fucking roof. You’re feverish or something. Do I need to take you to a hospital or something?”

“Just go. Please.” He’s pulled away from you, his hands clenching briefly into fists at his sides before uncurling again.

“Seriously, you’re burning up, you’re really sick or something. I should-” you start but he cuts across you.

“I’m fine. Please just trust me on this. I promise, I’ll explain it all when we get home.” His eyes are serious and intense as they burn into yours, a hint of something unreadable in his expression that makes you nod after a moment of hesitation. When you do, a bit of the tension seems to slip from his shoulders. “Angel is just coming. I’ll explain the situation to her.”

“What’ll you-” you say, fidgeting with the strap of your bag as you rise from your seat.

“She’ll understand. I’ll see you at home, okay?” His voice is soft and almost pleading as he moves back to let you step away from the table. You stand awkwardly to the side, idly checking your phone as Alex talks to Angel in a low murmur. Their conversation is largely inaudible to you, but Angel’s expression changes from confused to worried to angry and then to a flat, neutral mask in an astoundingly short space of time. She nods tersely as Alex finishes talking and then walks over to you, giving you a small smile and taking your arm.

“C’mon girlie, let’s go. We should catch up again soon, though,” she says as she tugs you gently towards the door. You’re not paying much attention to her, though. You’re mostly focused on Alex, just barely catching sight of him squaring his shoulders, hands clenching into fists as you leave the bar.

* * *

Your drive home is a blur. Your mind is all over the place and you’re not sure how much time elapses as you wait for Alex to return, pacing restlessly around the apartment. When he finally gets back, he looks tired and somehow apprehensive, though you don’t know why. The moment the door swings shut behind him, you feel some of the tension leave your body, as if releasing a breath you’d forgotten you were holding.

“Okay so what was that about? Why did I have to leave? Can you tell me what happened?” You ask, the questions all coming out in a rush. Alex heads over to the couch where you’re perched on one of the arms and slumps down against the cushions, rubbing wearily at his temples.

“Yeah, I’ll explain it all. I’m sorry about-about all of that. I didn’t mean to worry you,” he says and you frown slightly, slipping off the arm to sit beside him.

“Worrying me isn’t a big deal, I just want to know what’s going on. Who was that guy?” you ask and he gives you a tight smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“William Stryker. He’s-it’s kind of a complicated story-anyway, he spearheads the Sentinel program affiliated with the military. It’s for controlling and targeting Mutants, so needless to say, neither he nor the people he answers to are the biggest fans of your mom’s client. I don’t know what he was there for, if he was trying to get at you to influence your mom and her work on the case or whatever, but-” he breaks off, looking away from you uncomfortably.

“But what?” you urge him, leaning forwards unconsciously. Alex takes a deep steadying breath, still not looking at you.

“But whatever he was there for, him seeing you with me definitely only made the situation more volatile. It was unsafe, and I had to get you out of there,” he continues, voice low and serious

“Why would you being there make it more dangerous? You’re here for my protection, aren’t you?” You still don’t quite understand what he means and the possibilities are only making you more tense.

“Stryker being there is definitely connected to your mom taking the Lehnsherr case somehow. And he hates mutants, which-” Alex breaks off again, swallowing nervously and when he meets your eyes, the uncertainty in his expression is enough to make your breath hitch in your throat, because you’ve never seen him this unsettled and it’s a little scary. “Which means that you being with me puts you at greater risk from him, because-because I’m a mutant.” The silence that follows feels like it drags out for years, and Alex looks like he’s deciding whether or not to run away.

“What’s your-and you’re-is that why mum hired you?” You ask eventually, voice quiet. Alex’s gaze is still locked on your face, and he doesn’t look like he’s about to flee, but he doesn’t look any less tense either.

“No-sort of-I’m not really-It’s a part of the reason. She knows about it, but she said I shouldn’t feel like I had to use my mutation to protect you. The whole situation is a little-a lot complicated. I’m-Look. If you have a problem or something with me being a mutant, then you’re going to need to take it up with your mom because she’s the one who hired me to keep you safe, so she’s the one who gets the say in whether I go or not, so-”

“It’s not a problem, Alex,” you interrupt him before he can keep talking. “I’m not an asshole, you being a mutant doesn’t make me suddenly hate you. I just-so that Stryker guy at the bar. Is he-what’s going on with that?” you ask hesitantly and Alex looks away again, clenching his jaw.

“I handled that. He won’t-You’re in the clear as far as he’s concerned,” he grits out. His knuckles are white as his hands clench into fists and you impulsively reach for them, gently uncurling his fingers and lacing yours through his.

“Okay. Then it’s all fine. It’s okay, Alex,” you say softly, and that seems to pull his focus from whatever happened at the bar after you left as he glances down at your joined hands and then up at you, his expression unusually open and somewhat surprised. “You don’t-whatever you did to make sure Stryker wasn’t a problem-you don’t need to talk about it-and if you don’t want to tell me about your mutation, then that’s okay too. It’s all totally up to you. I’m fine with whatever, okay?”

“You’re not-you aren’t afraid of me or anything?” he asks slowly, as if not quite understanding your reaction. “I’m-I mean I’m dangerous. Even by mutant’s standards.”

“I’m not afraid of you. Promise,” you reassure him, still holding onto his hands. “And if you’ve dealt with Stryker, then that’s one less thing for us both to worry about, okay?” You finally let go of his hands, rising from the couch. “I’m going to bed. You should too. We’re both tired, and today has been eventful to say the least.” It takes Alex a second or two to react, and he looks bemused and exhausted and you feel a sudden, unexpected rush of affection at the gratitude you see in his eyes. Your impulse control must be totally gone at this point, because you can’t stop yourself from leaning in to press a fond kiss to his cheek before pulling away. “Goodnight, Alex.”

You don’t look back as you head out of the living room towards your bedroom, so you don’t see the small, surprised smile spreading over his face as he watches you go.


	5. Chapter 5

As you had retired to your bedroom after the incident at the bar, it had occurred to you that the dynamic existing between you and Alex might change in the wake of his revelation but you had quickly discarded the notion in favour of sleep.

The next morning when you wake up, Alex is sitting at the table flicking through his phone. When he hears you come in, he flashes you a tentative smile. “There’s coffee for you over there,” he says, gesturing to the kitchen counter. You smile at him gratefully as you walk over to pick up the still warm mug, turning to lean against the counter, facing him as you take a sip. Alex’s attention turns back to his phone and you study him for a moment from across the room. The unusual intensity and self-control make much more sense now. Your gaze drops to his shoulders, tracing along the defined muscles of his back and arms appreciatively. He’s an attractive person; you’ve always been aware of that, but now it seems somehow more pertinent to your consideration of him. His hair is messy from sleep and he’s still in his pyjamas and he’s tapping his fingers absent-mindedly against the side of his phone and you’re suddenly hit with a wave of affection that somehow isn’t entirely new to you, though this is the first time you’ve really noticed it. The realisation that you might have feelings for him makes you freeze up, mug of coffee still in your hand, gaze still trained on Alex. He glances up at you, and the brief smile he gives you makes your knees a little weak. You leave the kitchen, heading back to your room to brood over this new development.

This was not something you had anticipated, though looking back on every rom-com ever, not expecting to develop feelings for someone you were pretending to date was a rookie error. You take a deep breath and drain the rest of your coffee in one quick mouthful, hoping the caffeine will somehow prompt a new insight on how to handle your feelings. It’s not a big deal, you tell yourself. You’re an adult and you can push these new feelings to the side and ignore them like any reasonable adult would do. Totally doable.  
Ignoring your feelings turns out to be less doable than you thought.

The lines between you and Alex had been blurring before, but the casual affection the two of you had exchanged while at home previously seems like nothing compared to now, and you’re acutely aware of each lingering touch or quick smile. Exchanging kisses in front of friends is like a shot of pure adrenalin, and you can’t stop yourself from massively overthinking the soft look in his astoundingly blue eyes every time he pulls away. You try to justify the way you tuck yourself against his side by checking the weather app on your phone, as if frequent reminders that it’s cold outside will make the temperature the primary reason for wrapping your arm around his waist and settling close to him.

One day at home, you accidentally call him babe. If you’re being totally honest, you’re a little surprised it hasn’t happened before. You’re sprawled out on the couch, glaring at the TV as you aimlessly mash the buttons on the remote, trying to get any kind of reaction in response. The screen remains aggravatingly blank, and you swear loudly in frustration.

“Babe, can you come make Netflix work? I think the remote hates me,” you call, immediately tensing up as you register that you didn’t actually call Alex by his name.  
There’s a brief silence and then you hear footsteps headed out of his bedroom towards the couch and he says “Yeah, I can give it a shot. Have you checked the batteries though? Because I think they’ve been iffy for ages now.” He doesn’t mention the term of endearment, and you elect not to say anything either, but as he sits down beside you on the couch, you’re hyperaware of just how close to you he’s sitting.

You don’t say anything when he calls you sweetheart at home a few days later.

The instances of casual physical affection exchanged between the two of you in private are becoming more and more frequent, and it’s getting nearly impossible to ignore the surges of warmth you feel every time he puts his arm around you. Your steadily growing attraction almost results in a broken glass one morning when you turn from the fridge just in time to see Alex walking back into the apartment after a run, in the midst of pulling off his shirt. Your eyes reflexively drop to run appreciatively over his well-muscled torso and your cheeks heat up in response before you wrench your gaze away, shoving aside the decidedly non-platonic thoughts crossing your mind just in time to realize that you were about a millimetre away from knocking your glass of juice off the counter. You turn away quickly, face still burning.

Considering the pseudo relationship between the two of you is agonizing. Your feelings for him are now an ever-present weight at the back of your mind, sending sparks skittering across your skin every time his fingertips so much as brush against yours. You lie awake at night wondering if it would be for the best if you talked to Alex about calling the whole fake-dating shit show off. Every time you think about it, the idea churns through your mind for what feels like hours as you consider whether the discomfort of that conversation would be better or worse than the slow burn of hiding how you feel about him. No matter how long you think it over, or how close you get to deciding that you should call it off, you never do. You’re not sure if it’s weakness or just self-indulgence, but the appeal of being able to wrap your arms around him always wins out over what is feeling more and more like self-preservation.

* * *

It’s maybe two am one night when you’re woken up by muffled groans from Alex’s room. The sounds abate after a moment and you roll over, about to go back to sleep when you hear a thump and incoherent mumbling that sounds agitated and pleading. You just sit for a while, trying to decide what to do as the sounds get louder and more frantic, because you don’t want to cross a line or invade his privacy, but the thrashing is getting more and more distressed and you’re getting progressively more worried about him. There’s a strangled yell and you’re up out of your bed before you really process what you’re doing, headed towards the door to Alex’s room. You hesitate for a moment before cautiously opening the door and stepping in. He’s thrashing in the sheets and you can see the faint but steady glow emanating from his chest and hands and the visual evidence of his abilities is distinctly unsettling, because you don’t know the degree to which he is in control of his powers while asleep.

“Alex,” you call softly. “Alex, you’re having a nightmare-I think-wake up.” You’re tentatively approaching the bed. He rolls slightly, his head turning towards your voice, but he doesn’t wake. You’re standing beside the bed now, unsure of whether it would be safe to touch him. “It’s just a nightmare. You’ve-you gotta wake up. You’re just dreaming.” The glow from his chest is growing stronger and you can feel the heat rising from him. “Jesus-fuck, okay-Alex wake up,” your voice is getting increasingly frantic as you tentatively reach out to shake him gently. His skin is hot to the touch. “Wake up. It’s a nightmare, you have to wake up. C’mon Alex, wake up.” You shake him a little harder, and for a second he doesn’t respond. Then his eyes fly open and he surges up from the pillows, the glow in his hands and chest flaring suddenly and then dissipating. His chest his heaving and his jaw is clenched as he looks around the room warily. The second his gaze falls on you, he seems to tense up, rolling away from you and running a hand through his hair.

“Sorry about waking you up.” His voice is low and tight, and he won’t look at you. “You can-you can go back to bed. It won’t happen again.” You sigh and sit down on the other side of the bed, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder after a moment of hesitation.

“Alex it’s not a big deal. Are you okay, though? I don’t-” you break off mid-sentence, unsure of what to say. He seems so closed off and on edge, and you want to calm him down or make him feel better, but you don’t know how to go about it. He lets out a short, brusque laugh and shrugs your hand away.

“Fine. Fucking peachy. Sorry you had to see that,” he says, bitterly.

“It’s okay, I don’t care that-” you start, but he interrupts you.

“I could have hurt you. I could have-with my abilities and-fuck. You should just go back to bed.” His voice is furious and he still won’t look at you, his gaze trained on his clenched fists. You carefully slide across the bed to sit beside him, legs curled under you as you reach over to take his hand.

“But you didn’t hurt me. You were having a nightmare and I wanted to make sure you were okay-which you clearly aren’t, by the way-because I care about you. We’ve been living together long enough for that not to be a surprise, Alex. You didn’t hurt me. I’m fine,” you say softly, squeezing his hand briefly in reassurance to emphasize your point and he slowly looks over at you, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he straightens up a little.

“You’re fine,” he repeats quietly, fingers reflexively threading through yours. His hands are still warmer than usual and his breathing is a little unsteady, but he looks significantly more calm than he did a few minutes ago and you give him a soft, encouraging smile.

“It’s all totally fine, Alex,” you say, your thumb brushing over the back of his hand. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and his expression is far more open and vulnerable than you’ve ever seen it before and you’re suddenly dizzy with a surge of affection and protectiveness and want. You’re leaning into his side a little and his hand is warm in yours and when you think about it later, you’re going to blame your complete lack of impulse control on tiredness, even though you know that isn’t what it was. His gaze flickers briefly to your lips and you can’t focus on anything other than the softness in his eyes and the warmth of his skin against yours and before you can really process what’s happening, you’re leaning in closer and kissing him gently.

It’s slow and careful and unbearably tender, and Alex’s lips are warm and soft against yours. Everything else seems to fall away as you kiss him and he kisses you back and you feel like your heart might burst. And then the rest of the world comes crashing abruptly back in as he pulls away from you, his expression changing to one of guarded tension so quickly it’s as if a wall has slammed down behind his eyes, and the way he yanks his hand away from yours makes you freeze up.

“I’m-fuck. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-this isn’t-shit. I’m sorry, I’ve gotta-I need air,” he says hoarsely, rising from the bed and crossing the room in two long strides, grabbing a hoodie off the back of a chair as he goes. A few moments later, you hear the metallic clink of keys and then the front door opens and shuts and you’re left alone in the apartment, trying not to cry.


	6. Chapter 6

You try to go back to sleep. You really do try. After the apartment door swings closed, you just sit on the edge of Alex’s bed, frozen in place. The past three months play on repeat in your mind, flitting through as if on fast forward and you’re not seeing the time filtering past as a whole, you’re seeing the individual moments. The ones where you let yourself buy into the façade of dating a little too deeply. You’re holding his hand in a supermarket aisle and calling him babe. Kissing him on the couch and telling yourself that it’s for practice. That you don’t feel anything but platonic affection for him. He’s introducing himself to your friends as your boyfriend with his arm around your waist.

You can feel tears working their way down your cheeks, but you’re barely aware of them, still lost in your memories. Skip forwards another two weeks and you’re sharing a bed. Your mental recap freezes on the moment you woke up beside him, and your heart actually lurches at the remembrance of his drowsy blue eyes and messy hair and the sleepy smile he gave you. The tears are coming faster now, and as you reach up to wipe them from your face, you can’t help but feel fucking ridiculous. How did you ever let yourself think that he wanted you too? How did you ever let this whole absurd charade get this far?

The mental play through of your pseudo relationship is still going. You’re getting drinks with Angel and she’s telling you Alex makes you happy. How whatever is between the two of you is serious. Alex is sitting on the couch with you again, only this time he looks like he might fall apart and all you want to do is hold him. Something stutters in your mind and then you’re kissing him, and for two seconds it’s perfect and then he pulls away and it’s your turn to fall apart. The memories evaporate and you feel like you’re suffocating because the sheets you’re sitting on are still warm and they smell like him and you’re suddenly so aware of just how head over goddamn heels you’ve managed to fall for him.

Somehow you manage to stumble out and back to your room, collapsing on your bed, curled in on yourself as you remember the panicked expression in his eyes as he pushed you away. It’s normal for rejection to sting, but this feels like your heart has been ripped out and you’re so aware of exactly what kind of cliché you’re living right now but you don’t care that this closely resembles a scene from any generic rom com one might care to name because it hurts too fucking much.

Alex still isn’t back when you wake up. Despite your best efforts to the contrary, you must have somehow managed to slip into a fitful sleep because you open your eyes to weak early morning light filtering through your blinds. You listen carefully to the sounds in the apartment, not sure whether you’re hoping to hear someone else there or not. Regardless of what you were hoping for, the apartment is resoundingly empty, and something in your chest crumples a little at the emptiness echoing back at you. Eventually you drag yourself up from your pillows and into the kitchen to make coffee, wishing it were at least past noon so you could indulge in something a little stronger and more likely to make you feel better without feeling like the tragic second choice from a shitty romance novel. The coffee does help, though.

The hours in the day wear on, and Alex still doesn’t come back to the apartment. You make lunch and then don’t do much more than toy with it on your plate. You sit on the couch and turn the tv on but don’t watch it. The clock is ticking faintly in the background and you hate how acutely aware you are of the noise the second hand makes as it works its way around the face. It’s late afternoon when you hear the lock click and the door swing quietly open. The careful footsteps pause behind where you’re sitting on the couch and then move on after a moment, shuffling towards his bedroom. It’s agony, but you’re too proud to bring up the previous night if he isn’t going to do it first.

Afternoon slowly turns to evening and then to night. You’re exhausted but there’s something that’s a uniquely painful mix of adrenaline and indignant, self-righteous fury buzzing in your veins and you know sleep is a long way off, so you flick aimlessly through Netflix and try to find something to distract you. You hear Alex’s door open as he comes out to get himself some dinner, and again, he pauses behind where you’re sitting on the couch, resolutely ignoring his presence. He walks to the kitchen and then pauses again before turning around, walking back to stand behind you. The tension builds and builds between the two of you as he just watches you ignore him, and then he sighs heavily.

“Are we just not gonna talk about last night, then?” His voice is quiet but it sends a shiver down your spine and you still don’t turn around because you don’t know if you can manage looking at him right now.

“What’s there to talk about?” you ask steadily, as unconcerned as you can manage to make it sound. Alex sighs and you hear footsteps again as he makes his way round to the side of the couch, but you resolutely keep your gaze trained on the tv, though nothing is playing. “You had a nightmare, I calmed-tried to calm you down, you needed air so you left.”

You can see Alex’s hands clench into fists in your peripheral vision as he says “You know exactly what I mean. Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.” There’s a low note of anger in his voice and it’s enough to push you into motion, turning to look at him for the first time since last night. He looks like shit. There are circles under his eyes and it wouldn’t take much convincing to make you believe he hasn’t slept since he woke up at two am. His hair is a mess and his hands are shaking a little and his eyes are intense with an emotion you can’t quite name. “You kissed me.”

“You ran away from me,” you snap at him, your hands balling in the too long sleeves of your sweater as you glare at him furiously, trying to keep the tears pricking at the back of your eyes at bay. “I think that makes your feelings on the matter abundantly clear, thanks Alex. I don’t see what there is to talk about.”

“I didn’t run away,” he starts, but you cut him off, scoffing and swiping angrily at your eyes, having failed to keep the tears from falling.

“Sure fucking felt like running away to me,” you spit bitterly. “It’s okay. I get it. You don’t have feelings for me. It’s fine. I understand. I won’t try and get you taken off as my security or whatever, I’m not that kind of asshole, you won’t-”

“I don’t have feelings for you?” Alex’s gaze has the low intensity of someone losing their control over their emotions and it makes you freeze up, eyes locked on him. “You think that’s why-(Y/N), I have nothing but feelings for you. Shit, every fucking day for the past month has been like-I left because you are entirely too much for me to be able to think straight around you.” Your breath catches in your throat and you feel like your heart might pound out of your chest as he keeps going. “I left last night-yeah, it probably seemed like running away and yeah you’re right to be angry, just-” he takes a small, hesitant step towards you, one hand going to brace on the back of the couch as his eyes burn into yours. “Did you kiss me because you were trying to make me feel better, or was it something more because I have to know.”

It seems fucking miraculous that you manage to make your voice work at all, but somehow you manage to whisper “It was more. I kissed you because I have feelings for you, not-” you break off for a second, momentarily lost for words. “I fucking care about you, Alex. A lot.”

You’re both utterly still for a moment, just staring at one another, both deeply aware of the immense emotional volatility in the room. Then Alex takes an agonizingly slow step around the couch towards you. And then another. You swear you can hear the roaring of your heart as he sinks down onto the couch in front of you, tentatively reaching out to just barely brush his fingertips over the skin of your jaw. Your eyes reflexively slip shut as he hesitantly cradles your cheek in his hand, close enough for you to feel his breath on your face.

“Say it again,” he whispers hoarsely. “Please.”

Your hands are shaking and your eyes are still closed and your voice is scarcely audible as you breathe “I care about you.”

For one long, painful moment, he doesn’t react. And then, slowly and softly and so, so carefully, Alex leans forwards to press his lips to yours. It’s the barest brush of pressure but it sends a wave of relief and affection surging through you so strongly that if you weren’t sitting, it might have buckled your knees. His hand is still cupping your cheek, and you blindly reach one of your hands out to curl round his bicep, feeling his warmth and stability under your touch as he kisses you gently. It’s like flying and freefall and drowning all at once and you don’t think, just lose yourself in the feeling of his lips against yours. This is so monumentally different to the dry, quick kisses you’ve shared in front of friends, and worlds away from the momentary bliss of the night before. Kissing Alex now is something real and tangible and utterly addictive.

He pulls back a moment later, his forehead leaning against yours, his eyes closed and you’re pretty sure you’d be happy to stay in this moment forever. “I care about you,” he murmurs, a small smile tugging at his lips, and you give in to your impulse and just wrap yourself around him, shifting closer till you’re pressed up against him and your arms are around his shoulders as you bury your face against the crook of his neck, breathing him in. A second later he wraps his arms around your waist, one hand stroking idly up and down along your spine as he holds you close, the two of you content to just exist inside your little bubble of this perfect moment for as long as the rest of the world will let you.

“So, where does that put us?” you mumble against his skin, still not relinquishing your grip on him. You can feel him shrug languidly as his palm continues to rub slowly over your back.

“Wherever we want to be, I guess,” he says quietly. “I-what I feel for you is-it’s stronger than anything I’ve had before,” he continues almost reluctantly.

You nod, your face still tucked against the crook of his neck, and you can feel the tension drop from his shoulders as you murmur a soft “me too.”

“Maybe it’s-I dunno, maybe it’s love or whatever, or maybe it’s not. We might get married or this could blow up in a week, but whatever it is we have-it’s special. And I want to figure it out. Together,” Alex finishes, still stroking lightly along the curve of your back. You pull up from his neck to look at him properly, a small, utterly smitten smile tugging at your lips as you study his open, affectionate expression.

“I’d like that,” you whisper, and the answering smile he gives you is brilliant and beautiful and dizzying and it feels like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after literal months of procrastination and typing away at my laptop at ungodly hours of the night, i've finally fucking finished this holy shit. i hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as i did constructing it, thanks so much for sticking with me x


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